


Six or Seven

by elirwen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mpreg, References to Knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elirwen/pseuds/elirwen
Summary: Uther decides it's time for Arthur to find himself a mate. Scent samples from unmated omegas are sent to Camelot and Arthur chooses six he would like to get to know in person. And then Merlin, the servant assigned to the omegas, quite literally barges into his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize to the author of my prompt for only following about 80% of the prompt. I hope you'll still like the story. :)

“Is it really necessary?” Arthur asks his father, his tone hushed, watching the six omegas entering the hall. 

He might have chosen them from the scent samples that his father ordered every unclaimed omega in the land to send, but that doesn't mean he feels ready to choose his partner for life.

“We've talked about this,” is Uther's only reply before he takes a step forward from the throne and begins his greeting speech. 

Arthur forces a polite smile to his lips and lets his eyes wander over the women standing in front of them. It's easy to spot the two daughters of noble families, their rich clothing and jewellery clearly meant to draw his attention. They also seem less intimidated by the whole ordeal, used to the life at court, even when their status as omega doesn't allow them any power outside of marrying well. 

He knows one of the other four girls, Gwen. He learned the identities of the omegas he chose only after his decision to send for them was final, so it was a surprise when his sister's maid turned out to be his possible future wife. It showed how well she managed to mask her scent during her daily work.

Morgana gave him a speech about all the horrible things she would do to him if he dared to hurt Gwen, so he was very motivated to not let that happen.

The last three omegas seem mostly overwhelmed by the situation they're in. One of them keeps glancing around the hall, look of awe on her face. Another keeps her gaze firmly on the ground, while the third one stares at his father, hanging onto every word he says. 

Gwen looks at him and offers him a small smile and it's at that moment that the enormity of the situation crashes on him. His head swims and it takes everything in him to keep standing and appear unfazed. He doesn't feel ready.

 

*

 

The omegas are sent to their chambers to settle down and get ready for the welcoming feast, and Arthur is on his way to have a mental breakdown in his own rooms when someone runs out of the side corridor and barrels right into him. The impact is lessened by a huge pile of linens that is now not only all over Arthur but also all around on the floor. 

“Sorry,” Arthur hears a male voice say before he manages to get rid of the fabric hanging over his head. “I'm really sorry,” he continues, pulling the linens from Arthur and then bending to pick more from the floor. 

“Next time watch where you're going,” Arthur says, taking in the man's face. He doesn't seem familiar, probably someone new then.

“Sure,” he aims a blinding grin in Arthur's direction and takes off again.

 

*

 

Later that evening Arthur finds out that the new servant, Merlin, was assigned to the omegas which explained his previous rush. Arthur watches him as he pours the wine to the ladies, shares a few words with them, makes them laugh, his lips stretching into grin again. There's something about him that makes Arthur want to keep watching him.

“You're allowed to go talk to them,” Uther says, obviously misunderstanding his staring. “The sooner you start the better.”

He gives him a pointed look when Arthur hesitates, and there's just no way to keep sitting now that Uther has made it clear that he expects Arthur to take the first step in finding his mate.

 

*

 

Surprisingly, the evening goes well. After complimenting the beauty of all the ladies and exchanging some small talk, he talks some more with each of them. 

He learns fairly quickly that Lady Vivian is spoiled and arrogant and while her scent might be fairly pleasant, her personality is completely revolting.

The second noble, Princess Elena from the kingdom of Gawant, the only candidate from outside of Camelot, seems hesitant at first and they share a few moments of awkward silence, but then they touch the topic of horse riding and hunting and the conversation flows more easily. They even set up an afternoon ride for the next day. His father should be proud.

He already knows Gwen so he simply asks how her father's faring and whether she's in need of anything. She talks about her father's work with pride, offering to show him his best works if he's interested. 

Another of the low born girls, Lydia, is a barmaid from one of the southern cities. She is sweet and shy, blushing constantly, and Arthur only learns that she likes to sing when no one is around and her favourite colour is green. 

Rose, daughter of a farmer, is more confident. She's not afraid to show off her cleavage, reminding Arthur of Morgana, and her jokes are rather indecent, almost making Arthur blush. It's clear in how she looks at Arthur that he most certainly wouldn't be her first.

The last is Annie, a baker from the lower town. She talks mostly about her bakery, offering to bake his favourite apple tarts for him. He won't say no to that. 

Merlin keeps the wine flowing, not hesitating to add a few words to the conversations, completely ignoring all the class boundaries. Arthur pretends he's not amused by his antics but it's a nice change after years of stuck up court life. 

 

*

 

Later in the evening, Merlin spills wine all over Arthur's hand.

“Are you always this clumsy?” Arthur asks, lifting his hand from the table to avoid soaking his shirt in the spillage. 

“Not my fault you moved that goblet at the last second,” Merlin says, but he pulls his neckerchief from around his neck and starts dabbing at Arthur's hand and then at the table.  
“You can't talk to me like that,” Arthur says, amused.

“Of course, Sire,” Merlin says, the title rolling off his tongue with hint of playful disrespect. 

He's off to respond Lady Vivian's call the next moment, leaving his neckerchief behind without a thought.

 

*

 

For some reason, Arthur brings Merlin's neckerchief with him when leaving the feast. He plays with it as he sits on his bed, thinking about the omegas, unconsciously bringing the neckerchief to his nose and inhaling. 

There's the unmistakable smell of wine, but there's also another smell, soothing and alluring at the same time. Arthur's eyes fall closed as he enjoys the sensation, burying his nose deeper into the fabric. 

He tries to distinguish the smell, link it to any of the six omegas, but it's too different. He would definitely remember if one of the samples smelled this good. Could it mean that maybe Merlin was an omega himself? Why did he not send his sample along then? And why was he concealing his scent? Arthur would never notice it if he didn't press his face right into the fabric of his neckerchief. Or straight to his neck, his imagination supplies, low simmer of arousal awakening in his belly. 

 

*

 

Arthur wishes he could find Merlin first thing in the morning, but there are duties standing in his way, the training of his knights, council meeting, his scheduled rendezvous' with the omegas, Vivian and Elena for the first day.

He takes Vivian to the market in the lower town, regretting it soon after setting foot on the streets of Camelot. She keeps complaining about the dirt ruining her dress, about the peasants passing too close, about the wares being too simple, not worthy of her. Even the softest fabrics seem too rough to her and she barely glances at the jewellery, the best in Camelot. 

Arthur is relieved when the door of Vivian's chambers close behind her and he can head out to the stables to make sure horses are ready for his ride with Elena. 

Compared to the horrible hour with Vivian, the time spent with Elena is freeing. They race each other on their way to the stream where they let their horses drink and nibble at the fresh grass while talking more about their families. Arthur is pleased to hear that the kingdom of Gawant is faring well, their harvests fruitful and people safe. 

He can't bring himself to see Elena as his future mate though. He likes spending time with her and she could become a dear friend to him if allowed to stay in contact, but there is no real spark. Just like with Vivian, her scent lost its allure to him.

 

*

 

Next day, returning from court hearings, Arthur glimpses Merlin dashing across the corridor with a pitcher in his hands. He won't let him get away this time. He runs after him, calling his name once he gets him in his view again.  
“Yes, sire?” Merlin says after turning to face him.

Once again, he manages to sound insolent in just those two words. 

“Could I have a word?” Arthur asks. “In my chambers.”

“I need to bring this to Lady Vivian. Could it wait a bit?” Merlin says. “Sire,” he adds after a second.

Arthur is about to tell him that as a prince his needs always come first, but then he realizes they're talking about Vivian here. He wouldn't want to deal with her wrath either. 

“Of course,” he says. “Join me as soon as you're able.”

Merlin smiles at him and nods, hurrying off again.

 

*

 

Arthur isn't nervous. He has no reason to be nervous. He doesn't get nervous. It's only Merlin taking too long that makes him pace.

He grabs the goblet from the table, half full of wine, and downs it in one go. Not nervous, just thirsty. That's all.

There's a knock at the door and before he can tell whoever is on the other side to enter, the door opens and Merlin walks in. 

“Why bother knocking if you don't even wait to be allowed to enter?” Arthur asks, exasperated. 

“Did you want me here or not?” Merlin asks back.

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You might be the worst servant I've ever known,” he says.

Merlin just shrugs, the grin tugging at his lips again.

“What can I do for you then?” Merlin asks. “Do you want some gossip on the omegas? Because if that's what I'm here for, I'll just go right away.”

“No, it's...” Arthur's eyes wander to the bed where Merlin's neckerchief lies hidden under one of the pillows. “Why didn't you send your scent sample?” he asks eventually, fixing his gaze back on Merlin.

“What?” Merlin says, taking a single step back. “How do you even…?”

Arthur's gaze slides from Merlin's face lower to his neck.

“My neckerchief. At the feast,” Merlin says, mostly to himself. 

“Why didn't you send your scent sample?” Arthur asks again.

Merlin looks at him as if answer to that should be obvious.

“You really don't know?” Merlin asks after a moment.

“What am I supposed to know?” Arthur asks, getting irritated. 

“The request was for scent samples of female omegas only. Apparently princes don't bed men.”

“I thought there just wasn't any unmated male omega in the kingdom,” Arthur says, mentally kicking himself for not checking what the actual notices said.

He was so angry with his father about his decision to push him into mating that he ignored anything related to his search for mate until his presence was strictly necessary. 

“I probably wouldn't have send the sample even if I had been allowed,” Merlin says. “I've been really good at keeping the whole omega thing a secret until now.”

The secret keeping was fairly understandable. Male omegas' social status was even lower than the one of female omegas'. They tended to be presented as freaks of nature. In kingdoms allowing slavery, they were often used as sex slaves. 

In one of the battles with Essetir, they freed a slave like that. He still remembers his hunched body, the fear in his eyes when one of the knights laid his cape around his naked torso and tried to help him to stand. Fate was merciful that day as the knight felt drawn to the broken omega, nursed him to health, and they both accepted each other as their mate. Unfortunately, not all male omegas were so lucky.

As much as Arthur understands Merlin's wish for his status to remain secret, he can't deny the pull towards him and he's not ready to give up without at least trying. He steps closer to Merlin and offers him his hand. The gesture is unmistakable, the first step in courting an omega.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asks, taking another step back, eyes wide. 

It's obvious he knows what the gesture means but doesn't want to believe it. 

“I am offering you courtship,” Arthur says, calm and sure of his action.

“Is this about proving me wrong?” Merlin asks, suspicion creeping into his gaze. “About the bedding thing?”

Arthur can't stop the laugh that springs forward. 

“Trust me, I don't need to prove anything to anyone,” he says.

Blush spreads over Merlin's cheeks, but the wariness doesn't leave his face. 

“We can test our compatibility in private, telling no one. Only if we choose to mate, I'd introduce you to the king as my consort. Then you'd have nothing to worry about anymore. As the consort to the prince no one could touch you,” Arthur says.

“And if we weren't compatible?” Merlin asks.

“Then I'd keep your secret,” Arthur says.

“I need time to think about it,” Merlin says and Arthur feels relieved.

It's not a no, so there's still chance.

 

*

 

After lunch, it's time for another two rendezvous'.

He brings Lydia to the gardens and they spend most of the time in, mostly uncomfortable, silence, no matter how hard Arthur tries to start up a conversation. In the end, she is the one apologising with tears in her eyes about not being good enough for him, and Arthur ends up comforting her and telling her there is nothing wrong with her, that she will find her own happiness one day, be it with an alpha or on her own. Her scent only deepens the need to make sure she's cared for, but there is nothing romantic about the need.

Quite emotionally exhausted from the ordeal, he's looking forward to the sweet reward of baked goods from Annie that will be part of their time together. He arrives straight to the bakery, inhaling the rich scent of baking apples with delight. 

Annie is radiant as she works. She explains what she does and why as she does it and Arthur finds that he actually doesn't mind learning about it. When they wait for the goods to bake, Arthur tells stories about neighbouring kingdoms to pass the time.

When the tarts are done and cooled enough to not burn their mouth, Annie offers him one and smiles proudly when he nearly moans at how good it tastes. She blushes when he starts praising her baking with words instead of sounds. 

He offers her his hand, an invitation to bring their bodies closer, to mix their scents, but she hesitates, biting her lip. 

“What is it?” he asks.

“Things have changed since the day I sent the sample,” she admits after a moment of silence. “I met someone two weeks ago.”

“Why didn't you say so sooner?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“I didn't want to anger you or the king,” she says, still not meeting his eyes. 

“There is nothing to worry about. You're free to go to your future mate. I wish you all the luck and I'll be sure to stop by for more of those apple tarts in the future.”

Now that there are only two, or three if Merlin chooses to accept his offer, of his chosen omegas left, the pressure should rise. Instead Arthur feels more free.

 

*

 

Arthur lets his mind wander, warmth both from the fireplace and wine lulls him into a pleasant sleepy state. He wouldn't mind staying like this forever. 

A knock on the door startles him from near slumber and for a moment he considers not answering, but in the end he calls, “enter,” to anyone who's waiting. 

Merlin walks in, hesitant and unsure, completely different from their interactions from before the revelation. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says, standing up. 

He doesn't move closer to him, just waits to hear Merlin's answer, his heartbeat speeding up.

“I'm willing to give it a try,” Merlin says. “If you haven't changed your mind,” he adds with a nervous laugh.

“Of course I haven't,” Arthur says, finally stepping towards Merlin, his hand once more extended in the universal gesture of courtship offer.

He smiles when Merlin's fingers touch his and he doesn't hesitate to envelop Merlin's hand in both of his, his fingers sweeping gently over Merlin's skin. He lifts the hand higher and ghosts a kiss over its back. There's no sign of Merlin's omega scent, but that's not surprising. He's still in hiding after all.

Straightening up, he finds Merlin frozen, his eyes wide, lips slightly open. It would be so easy to lean in and cover those lips in kisses, but it's too early for that. Instead, Arthur gestures towards the chair in front of the fireplace. He tugs at Merlin's hand when he fails to grasp what Arthur's gesture means and Merlin finally follows, letting Arthur guide him to sit in the chair. 

Arthur lets go of Merlin's hand. The feeling of loss is surprising. He goes in search of an empty goblet and feels quite proud of himself when he manages to find one and bring it, filled with wine, to Merlin. Then he retrieves another chair from his table, carries it to the fireplace and sits down, his own goblet freshly filled.

“Shouldn't this be my work?” Merlin asks, sipping his wine tentatively. 

“You have very strange ideas about courting,” Arthur says, teasing smirk in place. 

“It's not like I planned to ever be courted,” Merlin mutters.

“Never?” Arthur asks.

“It wasn't worth the risk,” Merlin says, shrugging. “To be honest, I'm still not quite sure if it's worth the risk now.”

“Should I be offended?” Arthur jokes, trying to turn their conversation in brighter direction, but Merlin isn't swayed.

“I'm serious. Why are you even doing this?” Merlin asks. “Is it just because you want to try something new?”

“I bedded men,” Arthur says.

“But none of them were omegas,” Merlin says.

“Why does there have to be some special reason?” Arthur asks. “I chose omegas from their scent samples simply because they smelled good to me. It's the same with you.”

Merlin leans slightly forward, looking into the flames, both hands wrapped around his goblet. Silence stretches. Arthur uses the time to study Merlin's profile, the way the firelight gives his pale skin warm glow. He wonders whether the slight blush on his cheeks was brought by their conversation or by the wine.

“What does this courting thing entails then?” Merlin asks eventually.

“There are no set rules,” Arthur says. “It can be anything that would allow us to get to know each other better.”

“Talking then. I can do talking,” Merlin says.

“Trust me, I know,” Arthur says, amused.

“Oh, now I might stay quiet just to spite you,” Merlin says, but his smile betrays he's only teasing.

 

*

 

They talk for a long time, longer than Arthur dared to hope. Now he knows Merlin comes from a small village in Essetir, close to Camelot borders. That he left the village years ago in fear of being sold to slavery and haven't seen his mother since, but knew that she was still alive thanks to the letters they sent each other. He traveled the kingdom, helping with seasonal works, spending winters working anywhere they gave him a meal and a warm place to sleep. 

It was just a coincidence that he happened to arrive to the city two weeks before the omegas were supposed to arrive. Somehow he ended up assigned to them after just a few days of performing common serving tasks, even when he had almost no experience as a servant. Arthur has a feeling Merlin omitted something in this part of his story, but he doesn't expect to learn all of Merlin's secrets in one evening. 

In return, Arthur talks about Camelot, about his knights, about his mother's castle he visited only once years ago and wishes to visit again someday. He answers Merlin's questions about his daily life, talks about the weirdest nobles that ever visited the castle. 

It's only when Merlin's yawns come too often that Arthur stands up and crosses the space between their chairs once more, this time not to refill Merlin's goblet but to take it, empty, from Merlin's hand, settle it on the ground next to his own, and offer his hand for Merlin to take once more. 

Merlin doesn't hesitate this time. He wraps his fingers around Arthur's hand, stands up. He doesn't widen the distance between their bodies, even takes one step closer. Their eyes meet and for a long time, neither looks away or moves. 

It's Arthur who breaks first, his gaze sliding to Merlin's lips. He leans closer without thinking, but Merlin lays a hand on his chest, halting his movement. His head is tilted down, teeth worrying his lower lip. He lets go of Arthur's hand and pulls off his neckerchief, offering it to Arthur. Their eyes meet again and Arthur can see vulnerability reflecting in Merlin's. He accepts the neckerchief, his fingers curling around the coarse fabric. 

“Goodnight, Sire,” Merlin says, the title flowing without a hint of an insult from his lips. 

Before Merlin can withdraw the hand still on his chest, Arthur holds it and tugs him in a direction of his bed. Merlin gasps a shocked “Arthur” and resists being dragged, but at the moment Arthur just pulls harder until he gets them to the bed, depositing Merlin's neckerchief on top of the covers before reaching for the one hidden under his pillow. 

Merlin visibly relaxes the moment Arthur turns back with the wine stained, crumpled neckerchief in hand. By now it smells more of him than of Merlin. He secures it around Merlin's neck, allowing his fingers to brush against the warm skin there more times than is strictly necessary. 

“You're a prat,” Merlin says, exasperated. 

“I'm still your Prince,” Arthur says, his cheeks colouring when the implications of his previous actions finally catch up with him. “I would never take you against your will,” he adds, his voice subdued but urgent.

“Goodnight, Arthur,” Merlin says, smiling softly. 

“Goodnight,” Arthur says, his throat tight with unexpected emotions from hearing his name said in such a fond way.

 

*

 

When he goes to sleep that night, he holds Merlin's neckerchief in his hands for a long time, his insides tightening with worry. What if Merlin's scent lost its allure for him now that he got to know him better, just like it did for all the others? 

Closing his eyes, he forces himself to press the neckerchief to his face and inhales. He drops into his pillows, relief spreading through his body when Merlin's scent seems to taste even better than before. 

He's drifting off to sleep, the neckerchief wrapped safely around his palm, when another thought makes anxiety spread through his limbs.

What if Merlin doesn't find Arthur's alpha scent alluring at all? 

 

*

 

Next morning is filled mostly with training. He leaves the new recruits to Leon and concentrates on the more advanced. He lets them fight each other at first, just observing and pointing out their mistakes once each fight has a clear winner. Later, he chooses five of them and fights them one on one. 

Quite a crowd of spectators forms during those final fights, and Arthur is pleased to spot Merlin there. He's obviously trying to stay hidden, peeking from behind a wall, but Arthur has become attuned to him in the last few days, able to notice him even when he's just dashing somewhere to fulfill his servant duties. 

He wins all five matches and leaves the training grounds in great mood. 

 

*

 

The day continues to be warm and sunny, so there's nothing stopping the plans for his rendezvous with Rose. He's surprised to find Merlin waiting in the courtyard with their horses. Apparently it will be his job to get the picnic ready once they arrive at their destination, a grassy bank near a small lake. 

Arthur helps Rose onto her horse before mounting his own. Just like at the feast, Rose begins telling all sorts of naughty stories and jokes. Arthur finds them quite entertaining. He can hear Merlin's sniggers of laughter from time to time, reminding him of his presence. He's giving them space, riding few paces behind. 

 

*

 

“I can take it from here,” Arthur says, retrieving the wineskin from Merlin's hands.

The picnic is ready, blankets, pillows and food spread on the grass, and it's time for Merlin to step aside. It feels wrong, but he has to continue his search for mate as if nothing has changed. He has to keep Merlin's secret.

“Of course, Sire,” Merlin says and Arthur can tell he's also reluctant to let Arthur alone with Rose. 

 

*

 

They don't talk much as they eat, but Arthur is aware of Rose's appreciative looks thrown in his direction. She makes a show of sucking the juice from grapes, licking her fingers suggestively. Were it a few years ago when Arthur was fifteen and horny most of the time, he would have been kissing the juice from her lips already. Now, he can only think of Merlin.

He glances to his right, searching for Merlin's familiar figure sitting against some tree or maybe lying down on the grass, but Merlin is hiding well. There's no sign of him.

“Don't worry about him,” Rose says and suddenly she's much closer than before. 

She pushes him down on his back and in his surprise he fails to stop her, her full breasts now pressing against his chest, her leg sliding between his and her hand tugging at his shirt. Her scent is overpowering and not as pleasant as he remembers it. 

“I don't think we'll work well together,” he says, pushing against her shoulders.

“Doesn't have to be forever. Let's just have some fun,” she says, her hand sliding into his trousers so fast he doesn't have time to pull away before she manages to wrap her fingers around his flaccid cock. He jerks away violently, but with her hand trapped in his trousers it only makes her fall on top of him with her full weight. She looks at him then, really looks at him, searching his eyes, and Arthur can see the moment the understanding dawns on her and she finally pulls away.

“I'm sorry,” she says, straightening her clothing. “I've heard stories about you. A lot of stories. I should have known better than to believe them.”

Arthur flops onto his back again, helpless laugh escaping him.

“If you arrived in Camelot some two years ago, I'd tumble you in the hay in a heartbeat,” he says.

“What changed?” she asks.

“I just didn't feel like it anymore,” he says, shrugging. “But I think you might get on famously with one of my knights,” he adds, picturing Gwaine and his shameless flirting with anything that moves.

 

*

 

Merlin doesn't even look at him when he packs after the picnic. When they arrive back to the castle, Arthur tries to invite him to his chambers again for the evening, but Merlin excuses himself to continue his duties before Arthur can get half a sentence out. 

 

*

 

Sir Leon is waiting for him in front of his chambers. Frowning in confusion, Arthur tries to remember if he had something other than one more rendezvous planned for that day, but he comes up short. 

“Sire,” Leon greets him with a nod.

“Leon,” Arthur greets back. “Is something the matter?”

Flicker of uncertainty crosses Leon's face. 

“It's about Guinevere, Sire.”

“Is she unwell?” Arthur asks, concerned.

“No, she's perfectly fine, but...” Leon trails off, his gaze sliding to the floor.

“But?” Arthur prompts.

Leon squares his shoulders, meeting Arthur's eyes once more.

“I'm here to ask you for a permission to court Guinevere.”

“Oh,” Arthur says, taken aback. “Have you…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “Have you exchanged scent samples already.”

“By accident. She tripped over a stair and I caught her,” Leon says, sheepish.

“I see,” Arthur says, opening the door to his chambers and motioning for Leon to follow him inside.

“I have to uphold the decorum,” Arthur says once the door are closed behind them. “I will meet with Guinevere in the orchards just like was planned, but you are free to court her if she chooses to accept.”

“Thank you, Sire,” Leon says, visibly relieved.

“But make no mistake,” Arthur says. “If you ever hurt her, it won't be me you'd have to answer too. And trust me, you don't want to anger Morgana.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Leon says, mere mention of Morgana's wrath draining colour from his cheeks.

 

*

 

Walking to the gardens, Arthur is completely calm for the first time since this whole omega mess began. He knows with absolute certainty that Gwen isn't his future mate. She smiles at him apologetically when she spots him, waiting for him under an apple tree. Neither needs the other's scent to know they are not meant to be. 

 

*

 

His father isn't happy with Arthur's failure to settle for a mate. He glares at Arthur throughout the whole dinner, but Arthur no longer cares. 

What he does care about is that there is no sign of Merlin anywhere.

 

*

 

He's finishing his breakfast when Merlin barges into his chambers the next morning. He bangs the door shut, leaning against them heavily, trying to catch his breath. 

“What's wrong?” Arthur asks, hurrying towards him. 

“It's all your fault,” Merlin gasps out. “You had to be all sweet and gentle. And then prance around beating the shit out of those knights the next day.”

“You're not making any sense. Are you hurt?” Arthur asks, entering Merlin's personal space. 

Then he notices the scent, sweet and heady on top of the one he remembers from the neckerchiefs. 

“You're in heat.”

“It wasn't supposed to arrive for two more weeks,” Merlin whines, pressing himself to Arthur, his body feverish. “I don't have any herbs to deal with it.”

“It's going to be fine,” Arthur says, feeling the first trickles of arousal coursing through his body and stamping them down. 

“It's not. You made me fall for you and then you chose her,” he yells and pushes Arthur away.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asks, keeping his distance even when he wants to do the exact opposite.

“You chose Rose. I saw you,” Merlin continues to shout. “She was all over you.”

“You're jealous,” Arthur says, smirking. 

“Of course I'm jealous, you stupid prat,” Merlin shouts, taking a step forward. “You did this to me!”

“She threw herself at me. I pushed her away,” Arthur says, raising his voice to get his point across.

“What?” Merlin falters, anger giving way to confusion.

“She didn't want to be my mate. She wanted to fuck me,” Arthur says in a calm tone. “Apparently I have a bit of a reputation,” he adds, shrugging. 

“Oh,” Merlin says, sagging back against the door. “You really don't want her?”

“I want you, you idiot,” Arthur says. “I thought you changed your mind when you didn't show up yesterday.”

He moves towards Merlin, looking him in the eyes to make sure Merlin wants him close, and pulls him into an embrace. Merlin doesn't resist, hugging Arthur close in return.

“I'll get you the herbs, alright?” Arthur says, petting Merlin's back. “When did your heat begin?”

“I don't know. Near sundown?” Merlin says, further sinking into the embrace. 

“Gods, Merlin, what were you thinking?” Arthur says, hauling his useless hopefully soon to be mate into his arms and moving towards the bed.

“I thought you didn't want me,” Merlin says. 

Arthur sighs and tries to deposit Merlin on bed, but Merlin refuses to let go, so he sits on the mattress too. 

“I need to go to Gaius to get the herbs,” Arthur says, caressing Merlin's cheek. 

“So you don't want me,” Merlin says, accusatory, the heat making itself known.

“I do,” Arthur says, leaning closer, their lips almost touching. 

The urgency of heat abates from Merlin's eyes once more. He is the one to initiate their first kiss, his lips softly pressing to Arthur's. He follows Arthur's lead after that, learning fast just like Arthur knew he would.

“Then take me,” Merlin whispers into the kiss. 

Arthur pulls away to look at Merlin properly, needing to know it's not the heat taking over again. 

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” Merlin nods. “I've had enough of miserable half heats.”

He pulls Arthur into another kiss, moaning appreciatively when Arthur climbs on the bed and straddles him. 

“I still need to get some herbs from Gaius,” Arthur says. “Otherwise there's a very high chance you'll end up pregnant.”

“I'm willing to let destiny decide,” Merlin says, smiling, but then he pauses, tensing. “I need to tell you something first.”

He looks so worried Arthur's arousal retreats once more, making room for worry of his own. 

“You need to know before we...” Merlin trails off, letting out a shuddering breath. “I have magic.”

Arthur pulls away, shocked. 'All sorcerers are evil,' his mind supplies in the voice of his father. Dull humming fills his mind and he stumbles off the bed towards the window, throwing it open to get some fresh air.

“I'll leave,” Merlin says, his voice small. The 'don't kill me, please,' hanging in the air, unsaid.

“Why?” Arthur asks. “Why tell me now?”

“I needed you to know I didn't seduce you. I don't want the throne. I don't want my child to be Camelot's heir,” Merlin says, attempting to stand up and crumpling to the ground beside the bed instead. “I couldn't resist you. You made me feel like I mattered,” he whispers, broken. 

Instinct takes over, pushing aside conflicting thoughts, making Arthur run across the room, gather Merlin into his arms. There are tears sliding down Merlin's cheeks. His skin is hot, almost feverish.

“I was born with magic. I didn't choose it,” Merlin continues his explanation, one hand clutching at Arthur's shirt. “I ran, hid, kept my head low.”

“By coming to the city?” Arthur asks, carding through Merlin's hair absentmindedly. 

“They say the darkest place is under the lamp,” Merlin says, smiling weakly. “See?” He waves a hand in the direction of the table and one of the candles there lights up. 

“You...” Arthur starts, but when he turns his gaze back to Merlin he finds him asleep, or more likely passed out, in his arms. “Idiot,” he mutters anyway. 

He lets him sleep, tucking him in his bed. It gives him time to think, to make a decision that will turn his life around whether he chooses to follow his instinct and accept Merlin as his mate or stay unmated, sending Merlin away. The thought of reporting Merlin to his father is dismissed the moment it crosses his mind.

 

*

 

In the end the choice is easy. The air is fresh from Arthur opening all the windows and yet, just seeing Merlin gradually waking up, his sleepy confusion before memories start to flood in, makes warmth spread through his chest. He can't blame heat for what he feels. 

He crosses the room, climbs on the bed and presses himself to Merlin's back. 

“I accept you,” he whispers into his ear.

 

*

 

Merlin's exhaustion slows his heat down, giving Arthur time to feed him, to gently wash him with a soft cloth dipped in warm water. It gives him time to kiss every patch of freshly cleaned skin, to turn Merlin into incoherent mess long before his touch turns truly intimate. 

 

*

 

“Sire? Is everything alright?” a voice from behind the door asks. 

“Go away,” Arthur yells, knowing full well he missed both the knights' training and the council session, but not willing to let go of Merlin's body, warm and pliant from their first mating. 

 

*

 

“Arthur, open the door now!” his father commands this time.

“No,” Arthur growls buried in Merlin for the third time that day, his knot slotting into place while Merlin spills in between their bodies with breathless little moans. 

 

*

 

Mere minutes later, there are three loud thuds and the door burst open, his father striding in accompanied by four knights. 

“Get. Out.” Arthur snarls, pulling covers over them both.

The knights don't wait for their king's order and retreat. Uther isn't far behind.

 

*

 

“How do you think the destiny decided?” Arthur asks as they lounge in the bath, the heat over.

“Ever so confident crown prince of Camelot doubting his royal seed?” Merlin asks in return, earning himself a splash of water and one more orgasm as 'punishment'. 

 

*

 

Uther is most displeased by Arthur's choice of a mate, but he can't do a thing about it except for glaring in Merlin's direction every time he sees him. Everyone else seems to fall in love with Merlin's charm. It's almost scary how effortlessly he manages to wrap the whole court around his finger in such a short time. 

 

*

 

Their official mating ceremony is a grand affair taking place two and a half month after their actual mating, hosting many a foreign dignitary. The whole castle bustles with activity and everything seems to be going perfectly, but Arthur feels like something has to go wrong. So it's really not that big a surprise when Merlin throws up his breakfast right in the middle of the ceremony. 

They continue after Gaius checks Merlin over and Arthur can't stop smiling like a loon for the rest of the day, Merlin's pregnancy finally confirmed. 

 

*

 

Gwen and Leon have a lovely mating ceremony. Later that night Arthur makes love to Merlin, soft and sweet, careful of his five months bump.

 

*

 

Merlin's belly grows impossibly large. He grumbles about backache and peeing all the time, but Arthur knows it's all for show. Merlin glows with happiness.

 

* 

 

“Bloody Pendragon virility,” Merlin mutters, leaning heavily into Arthur's embrace.

Mere moments after their son announces himself to the world with a loud cry another contraction hits, his sibling wanting out too. 

 

*

 

“Let's not do this ever again,” Merlin mumbles, exhausted. He looks at their son and daughter lying on his chest and adds, “or at least not very soon.”

 

*

 

The first time Arthur deposits the tiny bundles of grandchildren in Uther's arms is the first time he sees his father smile when looking at Merlin.

**Author's Note:**

> You can [follow me on tumblr](elirwen.tumblr.com). 
> 
> When I started writing this I thought it would get much more porny towards the end. But when I finally got to the heat part, I found out it didn't feel right anymore. So that's why the ending looks like this. Sorry about that I guess. :)
> 
> Prompt: Uther decides that alpha!Arthur is now of the age where he needs to find this omega mate, so the king orders sent samples to be sent in from all the out laying villages and lands in the kingdom, so Arthur can choose his mate without having to visit everywhere.  
> The choosen female omegas are sent to Camelot, with rare maleOmega!Merlin as a servant who's scent had not been sent along(who'd want to mate with a man?).  
> Arthur finds himself unable to keep Merlin from his mind.  
> Merlin's heat comes on whilst he's in Camelot, and Arthur is unable to keep himself away, of course he gets Merlin pregenant.


End file.
